


Proposal

by Beastie



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-05-06 15:39:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5422601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beastie/pseuds/Beastie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam Vimes falling asleep after lunch with Sybil is woken up by a sudden question.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Proposal

**Author's Note:**

> Fan fiction about how I think the proposal of Sam and Sybil went.

“Sam?” Sybil asked. Vimes in the big leather high backed chair snorted. He had succumbed the influence of a big lunch, the warm autumn afternoon and not going to bed until the wee hours of this morning. Sybil gave his shoulder a tap he mumbled something about resting his eyes and sat up.

“Hard night Sam?” Sybil asked taking a cup of tea from the recently promoted butler and handing it to Vimes.

“It was the usual,” He muttered as the butler shuffled away respectfully closing the big double doors behind him. Sybil frowned at him, she must have known, it was the first time he’d slipped since the last time. He kept telling himself that the bottle in the draw was there to prove he could go without it, but the whisky level kept getting lower. She seemed to know, no matter how hard he tried to sober up she knew and that disappointed her, which made Vimes squirm.

“Havelock tells me the watch is getting new recruits,” Sybil said brightly. Vimes scowled, he had never actually seen Sybil and The Patrician talking, but apparently they occasionally had tea together. Vimes had visions of flamingos and Hippos living together which he was sure was an apocalyptic omen*.

“A troll and dwarf and a W- another one. Hardly what I’d call a fine body of men.” Vimes mumbled bitterly.

“Nonsense Sam. I’m sure they will do just fine with you to guide them,” Sybil said brightly. Vimes glared at her coming from anyone else he would have dismissed that as sarcasm. He could barely guide himself to his own lodgings some nights, but she had faith in him, where she got it he’d never understand. She smiled at him and it seemed to linger on her lips but left her eyes. “Will you marry me Sam?” she asked suddenly. Vimes teacup rattled in its saucer.

“Sybil.” He started putting his tea on the coffee table before it was over his lap.

“We simply can’t carry on like this, not at our age” Sybil explained briskly.

“Why not?” Vimes muttered he tried to sink into the armchair hoping it would engulf him.

“And unless you only stayed around to make sure I don't get eaten by any dragons. I think we go together quite nicely.” Sybil added timidly, she blushed.

“You could do better.” Vimes choked.

“That’s for me to decide, I think,” Sybil snapped she played with the sleeve of her dress. “Of course, money won’t be a problem,” Sybil added as if it had been playing on her mind. Vimes glared at her; of course, money would be a problem Vimes didn’t have any and if he did he wouldn't know what to do with it. Vimes looked around and the grand setting, the bone china and silver teaspoon. He didn’t belong here, buried in the comfy chair in the yellowish sitting room. Then he looked at Sybil. Her big hazel eyes, strong nose and plump cheeks. She could better than him, she could peel things off the pavement that were better them him. That’s what Sybil did, she took in the pavement scrapings, like Swamp dragons and made something of them. If she wanted a project, Vimes was a good one. She already made him want to be better. He looked at Sybil, she had opened heart and he let it engulf him.

“Let's do it.”

 

*Vimes had very little knowledge of the natural world; if it wasn’t in a frying pan he didn’t know it.


End file.
